


bet you didn't see this coming

by words_on_pages



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Bottom Harry, Louis and Liam are the only two Brits in here, M/M, Misunderstandings, harry is american, harry still wears floral shirts, liam is a security guard, louis and harry are in their 30's, louis is a lawyer, louis is a prick at times, no Niall sorry!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-11
Updated: 2015-06-11
Packaged: 2018-04-03 23:10:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4118140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/words_on_pages/pseuds/words_on_pages
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by a tumblr prompt-</p><p>I saw you trying to hit the “door close” button in the elevator but I made it in and then I pushed every single button to make you later for work, but now we’re stuck in this fucking elevator as it stops at every single floor and I don’t know what to say other than “you started it” AU</p><p>And then it evolved into a bit more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	bet you didn't see this coming

**Author's Note:**

> I literally have no idea how this got so out of hand. It was supposed to be a quick 1,000-2,500 words or whatever. Just a simple, fun elevator scene.
> 
> And then it just kept expanding. Good grief. Obviously I know nothing about lawyers. or landscaping. So just remember to read with your fanfic glasses on.

 

 

Louis rushes through the large glass doors of Morgan and Brickner, glances at his watch, counting it a miracle that he’s made it into work an hour earlier than normal for a monday. He sighs in relief at the chilly air conditioned interior, thankful to be out of the hot, humid Houston air.

He’d nearly thrown his phone at the wall when the alarm went off this morning. Head pounding, mouth dry. Sunday was always the worst night to meet with clients. He never thought he’d see the day when he’d say he’s too old for this shit, but really-

He’s too fucking old for this shit.

It was a mad rush as he’d hurried to shower, shave and pull on a suit before running out the door. All done without puking, which felt like a victory in his book. He's thirty-seven years old and even now never seems to start mondays out on good footing.

Liam waves at him as he approaches the front desk and he slows to a stop because he’s Louis’ favorite security guard. It might have something to do with the fact that he is the only other Brit Louis knows here in the States, although they grew up in different parts of England, talking with him always feels like a pleasant reminder of home. He reasons he has time for a bit of chit chat before he heads upstairs to dive headlong into the Grimes case.

“8:00.” Liam gives him an impressed look. “You’re a bit early today.”

“The clients keep me up late.” Louis gives him a reproachful look. “Do you see the bags under my eyes?"

Liam opens his mouth.

"Don’t answer that. I’m not ready for that much honesty this morning. But yeah, for me this is early. Thanks for pointing it out like that, Payne.” He taps the marble counter top with his hand, giving Liam a pointed look. “Makes me look like a real tosser, that.”

Liam raises his hands, eyes going wide, “Hey- Zayn tells me you don’t leave until at least eight every night so you get no judgement from me. Just wondering what could pull you out of bed this early.”

“I’ve got the Grimes case to work on.” He gloats, taking a drink of his triple shot espresso. He hates the taste. Loathes it. But the sad fact is that years of long office hours have encouraged a slow, vicious dependence on it. And due to the six boxes of paperwork that he knows are waiting for him on his desk, he'll be drinking about three more of these before the day is through.

Liam laughs sympathetically. “Yikes. Don’t envy you that.”

Everyone is aware of how massive this case is. It’s going to take him fucking months of around the clock work to prepare for trial, but it will be worth it. This is the largest case he’s been given so far and he's eager to prove just how invaluable he is here. If he was good at reading innuendo (and Louis prides himself on it) when John had presented the case to him saying that he would be taking the lead, he’s pretty sure that what he intimated after the fact meant that if things go well he could possibly expect to see Morgan, Brickner and _Tomlinson_ on the building in the near future.

Imagining his name up there makes his insides twist. He wants it so fucking bad. This case just might kill him, but if he makes partner. Fuck. Louis' not getting any younger. He’s given fourteen years to his career here and he’ll die before he lets one of these young prats make partner before him. If anyone bothered to ask him _,_ he should have been made partner five years ago. But he’s stayed the course and now his rightful due is coming. As long as he can make it through the grueling couple of months ahead of him.

He nods at Liam in agreement, his head beginning to pound with a headache once again. “I don’t envy myself either.”

He hears one of the four elevators ding behind him, doors beginning to open. He still feels like he might throw up at any moment and he would prefer to do that in the wastebasket underneath his desk. He needs to get there, like _now_.

“Well, best get to it.” He taps his hand once more on the counter, takes a deep breath, bracing himself for a long day.

“Cheers.” Liam offers, distracted by someone else walking up to the desk.

He hurries over, trying to catch the elevator that is wide open and about to close. If Louis has to wait five more goddamn minutes for an elevator he’s going to die. They're almost constantly in use and if he doesn’t catch this one he might as well take the stairs. He frowns as he sees a long haired bloke inside and he’s looking right at Louis and repeatedly pressing the button to close the doors.

Honestly. What a wanker. Lightning fast, he sticks his arm in between them and they open back up. He steps inside barely containing a smirk at the guy’s long-suffering sigh as he steps back and leans against the glass. Louis is just this side of a shitty mood and two can play at this game.

“In a bit of a hurry?” He asks and casually begins pressing his finger into each and every button on the panel, lighting up all the numbers between the lobby and floor 27 where this bloke must be headed. A startled gasp is the only response he gets from the stranger which means he must have noticed what Louis is doing.

“You know it’s not very polite to use that button.” Louis sniffs imperiously. To be honest, he's used that button plenty of times so he may or may not be acting a tad hypocritical right now. But the man had made the bad decision to try pressing it on him. He could have been stranded downstairs for who knows how long. It takes a moment to process through the pain in his head that he just put himself in the same position to wait forever for his own floor. Maybe he didn’t quite think this through. His mates do frequently remind him he can act a bit of a 5 year old sometimes. Shit.

“I have a meeting to get to. I apologize, but it’s very important.”

The sincerity in the deep voice behind him grates on his nerves. Don’t try to be polite now, mate.

Louis turns around and arches his eyebrow, deliberately making his way up and down his body with his eyes. He’s wearing a green button up with a company name embroidered on the pocket, sleeves rolled up unprofessionally to display some tattoos peeking out on his forearms, some hideously pleated khakis and actual _dusty_ boots. In this pristine office building. He’s rounded out the look with a black-brimmed hat set further back on his head.

“You….are going to a meeting?” He snorts. “What with the head of maintenance? Are we hiring you to water the plants?”

Louis knows he’s being rather nasty but he’s also holding in his nausea as tightly as he can so really, this guy should be grateful he’s not ripping that silly farmer hat off his head and puking into it.

To his credit, he appears completely unruffled by Louis’ venomous words.

He looks at Louis steadily and there’s something about his calm demeanor that irks him. It doesn’t help that his refusal to respond is making Louis feel guilty about what he just said. Feeling guilt is something that he does not make a habit of doing.

“Again, I apologize.” The guy says slowly. “I have an important meeting and-” his face shifts, “I don’t mean to be rude but are you alright? You look a little pale.”

“I’m fine.” Louis grits out. The pounding in his head has gotten worse. The air in the elevator is feeling thicker and the movement of it fucking stopping every other minute with a ding and the opening and closing of the doors is not sitting well will him. Jesus, what floor were they on by now? They were in between floors now, coming up on level 22. He presses furiously at that button, knowing it isn’t going to make the elevator get there any faster but he’s desperate at this point and he needs to get off _now_. Not that he wants to admit that. “I guess we all can’t be tan like you from working outside with foliage all day long.”

The man eyes him curiously, an amused quirk to his mouth now, “you keep saying that but-“

A metallic screeching noise interrupts his words. The elevator makes a few more ominous noises and stops.

Louis pulls off his suit coat and yanks on the knot of his tie feeling extremely hot all of a sudden. “Bloody hell.”

“What just happened? Why did it stop?”

“I didn’t do anything wrong.” Louis snaps back testily. “I was pressing that number 22 a bit but there is no way that it would cause the elevator to just stop.”

By the time he gets to that last word his conviction is slightly weaker, because to be honest, he _isn’t_ sure exactly if that caused it or not.

"I thought British people called it a lift."

Louis presses his fingers into his eye sockets. "Is that really important right now? I've lived in the States for seventeen years. You don't tend to keep calling it a lift when everyone around you calls it an elevator. You assimilate."

"Oh. Right." The man gives him a sheepish smile.

Louis can barely even think straight due to the pounding in his head.

“Okay, I might need your hat.” Louis bursts out urgently. “Yeah. Yes. I’m going to need it. Hand it over now.”

He looks up at Louis and realization floods his features, eyes flying wide. “Wait a minute. No.” He holds his hands out reassuringly as if he was trying not to spook an animal. “No, no, no, no. You aren’t doing that in here.”

He laughs but quickly regrets it as that makes him gag. “Not sure I have a choice in the matter, yeah?”

Louis is surprised when a hand starts swishing back and forth in front of his face. “Close your eyes and breathe deeply. Come on.”

He does as he’s told and feeling the air hit his face really does feel good in this stifling elevator.

“Okay now keep breathing, in through your nose out through your mouth and don’t open your eyes. We are going to slowly lower ourselves to the floor.”

Louis latches on to his deep melodic voice, glad for something to focus on. It feels closer now and Louis catches a faint whiff of men’s cologne. It smells good but adds to his nausea. Ugh. Nevermind, he hates it.

“Now I’m going to turn you very slowly.” He guides Louis around gently with hands on his biceps. As soon as Louis reaches the floor he’s pulling him backward to lean, back to chest. Louis tenses and gasps a bit as it paralyzes his head in pain.

“Whoa, what's going on. This is heading into a creepy territory I have to admit.”

“Trust me,” a soft voice assures him. “Now just try to relax and keep breathing deeply like you were. Unless you’d prefer I just allow you to puke into my hat at which point we would both be stuck in here for an indeterminate time with that smell.”

This bloke does have a point. Fuck. He submits to the hands pulling him until his back is flush against his warm chest. Louis feels long fingers slid through his hair, grazing lightly along his scalp with a light pressure. A full body shudder runs through him at the feeling. His head is just so goddamn tense. His fingers move forward and circle lightly over Louis’ temples for several minutes before sweeping back over his scalp, always with the barest pressure.

Louis can’t stop his body from liquefying under the guys ‘skillful hands. It takes several minutes before the pain finally begins to leach out of him and with it the nausea abates.

He’s loath to talk now, not wanting to rock the boat on how much better his head is feeling, but the silence is also kind of awkward.

“Where on earth did you learn to do this?”

A laugh puffs air onto his neck. “My dad. He used to end up with killer hangovers when I was growing up and he taught me how to ease them. I’ve got to say I never expected to use it on a stranger though.”

“Well this stranger is very grateful.” He smiles as nicely as he can, pulling away and standing up, but his mind is occupied with how long it’s been. He pulls out his phone to see that thirty-five minutes have passed since he was talking with Liam at the desk. Feels like an eternity though. Jesus, this is the shit he gets for coming in early? Never happening again.

The other guy stands up and leans backward, looks like he’s stretching out his back.

“And look- I’m sorry I was a bit of an ass with the buttons. I wasn’t in the best frame of mind as you can see.” Although Louis does not want to admit to him that he probably would have done the same thing sans hangover too. He’s starting to feel the burn of all the times his mates have told him he’s immature for his age.

The guys’ face immediately clouds with worry. “Shit. The meeting.” He pulls his hat off and slides his fingers through his hair, setting it back on his head. “I’d forgotten with all the- the stuff that just happened with us getting stuck and you being sick. This is the worst day for this to happen on.”

He steps forward and regards the panel of buttons with serious consideration. “There’s got to be something we can do.”

Louis rolls his eyes to himself. He does seem a bit dramatic. He’s late like twenty minutes, it will probably be fine.

“Listen-“

“Harry.” He supplies over his shoulder.

“Harry- I’m Louis by the way. But seriously, do you need the job here that badly? I’m sure there are plenty of buildings that could use your services. And actually if you are that put out financially by this whole thing I could hire you.”

The guy, Harry, stops what he’s doing and turns around. Which is probably a good idea seeing as he was pressing lots of random buttons and the buttons are what got us in this mess.

“I purchased a new house about six months ago and I haven’t done a thing with the yard. It’s pretty dull, no landscaping to speak of, so like it’s almost fate with you being a plant guy” he points at the embroidered words on his shirt, “ _Green and Natural_ , absolutely perfect right? I could hire you to put bushes and shrubs in and stuff.”

Harry considers him with a quizzical look in his eye, like he’s about to say something and then stops himself. He stands there looking at him for what feels like forever and then one side of his mouth tips up. “Yeah I suppose I could come by.”

Louis zeroes in on the deep dimple that’s appeared with his half smile. _Why not indeed_ , Louis thinks frantically as he pulls his gaze back to the elevator panel.

“But first let’s get the hell out of here, yeah?”

 

***

 

Louis is literally swamped with the Grimes case for the next three weeks. He had postponed Harry’s consultation visit two different times. There just weren’t enough hours in a day. One thing he’d always been good at was keeping his weekends for himself. He’d work hellishly long hours during the work week but he’d never let it spill out into his weekend. But that structure had gone right out the window on this one.

They had reset the visit again and although Louis feels slightly guilty over the pile of work on his desk inside, he finds himself nervously kicking pebbles by his porch while he waits for Harry to pull up. He’s just glancing at his phone again in mild irritation, checking the time, when he sees a Nissan Leaf drive up.

A grin pulls at his mouth.

“I think I was expecting a dusty truck to come pulling up.”

Harry looks at him in puzzlement through his open window.

“Not sure how you fit plants and trees in that.” Louis clarifies.

“Ohhh.” Understanding dawns. “Oh. Well um-” He opens the door and steps out. He’s wearing the same green button up, sleeves rolled halfway that Louis had seen him in previously, but this time he has a torn up pair of jeans on and his hair is wrapped up in a bandana. “yeah but this one is electric. Better for the environment.”

“Right. Makes sense now that you say that.”

He can’t help but notice Harry’s gaze work up and down his body. He stands there staring, not saying anything. Finally Louis breaks. “What?”

Harry’s eyes blink a few times and then he looks him in the eye. “Sorry, it’s just odd. Seeing you like this. It’s, um, different from before. No suit and all.” He coughs.

“Oh that. Um yeah- I guess not many people expect to see me in ratty tshirts and skinny jeans.” Louis shrugs, scratching the stubble on his jawline. “But this is how I am when I’m not in lawyer mode.”

Harry nods, eyes still traveling on him.

“I like it.”

Louis clears his throat. “Well I suppose I should show you the yard and all. We can head over this way.”

Harry opens the car door one more time, pulling out a clipboard and holding it tightly to his chest.

“So this is the area right in front of my porch, obviously we’ll do some bushes or summat right here? And it usually gets wrapped around the side of the house, yeah?”

Harry looks at the area with intense concentration. “Yes, we can lay-“ he looks down at his clipboard, “mulch down. Or rocks whichever you prefer. Oh and I need to ask- do you prefer-“ he glances down again, pulls a pair of thinly rimmed reading glasses out of his pocket and puts them on. His brow furrows as he reads “would you prefer some deciduous bushes?” He glances up at him over the rims of his glasses.

Louis slowly raises one eyebrow. “What the hell are those?”

Harry looks unprepared for the question. He scans the page and chews on his lip for minute before looking up and around at the houses around them. “Well, um they are like that one over there.”

“That’s a deciduous bush?” Louis looks at him in disbelief.

There’s a moment of hesitation. “Yep.” Harry stares at him a little intensely. “Yes it is.”

Louis keeps the eye contact for a bit longer, trying to figure out why the hell he’s acting so odd. Harry holds it until Louis finally glances back over at the bush he was referring to. He shrugs in indecision. “I dunno, I guess I’ll go with whatever you say because you’re the plant expert.”

Louis continues on to the side and points at an area that he’s hoping to plant a tree. His yard does have some trees but Louis has always wanted a birch. There’s just something majestic about the white bark.

“Can we do a white birch tree over here?”

“Yeah absolutely.” He scribbles across the paper on the clipboard.

“Shouldn’t you be like, taking pictures and measuring and stuff?”

“Well, I-“ Harry pulls the reading glasses off of his nose and pockets them again. “I- um. I usually walk around with you first. And like- get a feel for what you want and then I’ll go around and take pictures.”

“Oh. Well, sorry. Not trying to cramp your style. Just curious is all.”

A smile hovers at the edge of Harry’s mouth. “A very curious person.”

Louis scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Well, _you_ are a very unconventional landscaper.”

“You have no idea how right you are.”

 

***

 

Harry emails him pictures throughout the next week of various types of shrubbery. Louis is slightly exasperated by it because he responds the same way every time. Which is that he doesn’t give a flying fuck. Harry is the plant guy, he should be deciding what bushes to put in. It makes perfect sense that the homeowners should have a say, but when said homeowner doesn’t care, _do whatever you want_. Louis groans when he hears his phone go off, letting him know he has another email. He switches it to silent and rolls his neck. Listening dejectedly at the way it cracks. He stretches his knees and hears a crack there too. God, he’s old.

He looks around his admittedly nice office and the amount of hours, no, _years_ he’s spent holed up in here weigh down on him all of a sudden. He looks at the piles upon piles of financial statements he has yet to go through and all he can think about is how tired he is.

He takes a break to google ‘body changes in your thirties’. After perusing two links he’s even more depressed. He glances at the mirror on the side of the office and sighs at the bags under his eyes and hollows of his cheeks. He really needs to eat more. Or take vitamins. And probably work out. And a million other things that he doesn’t have time for.

As soon as the Grimes case is over it will all be worth it, he reminds himself. Once he makes partner he’ll be set for life. He can start easing out of these hectic office hours, enjoy more time at home.

He laughs into his empty office, scrubbing his hands over his face. Why the hell would he want to spend more time at home? To sit there by himself?

He grabs his phone and checks his email. Two new ones but surprisingly neither are from Harry. Louis frowns, pushing away the disappointment sitting low in his gut.

He pictures him kneeling on the ground in front of his house, struggling to put one of those bushes in the dirt. A soft laugh escapes and he picks up the last page he was looking at in the stack of statements. Page 36 of 142. He braces himself for a long night.

 

***

 

“Is it possible that it’s tilted a little bit to the right?” Louis cocks his head as they both look at the birch tree Harry had planted earlier that day.

Harry glances at him and back at the tree, hand curling around his chin. “No, I don’t think so.”

It is. It is literally tilting to the right. Louis presses his lips together, squinting in thought, trying to decide if people would notice from the street.

“Nah, I’m sure it’s fine.” He waves a hand at it.

“It’s straight.” Harry considers the tree further, tapping a finger against his lips, eyes sliding to Louis and back. “It’s really not tilting.”

Like hell it isn’t. “No, now that I look at it, you’re right. It looks good.” He coughs into his fist and turns around. “I like what you did with these other bushes.” He points at the six or so shrubs of various types in front of his porch. “They won’t get so tall that they’ll cover up the railing though right?”

Harry nibbles on a nail while he looks from the bushes to Louis a couple times. “Nope.” He finally answers.

Louis nods at him, trying to prevent doubt from showing on his face. He casually glances at the house to his right and sees a very similar looking bush to the one he has. It’s eight feet tall.

“Care to come inside for a beer?” He offers, afraid to look at the back of the house at this point.

Harry winces. “Ahh, I probably shouldn’t, I really need to get home. I have some things to get done there.”

“Oh.” Louis waves him off. “Right, I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to keep you.”

“No, it’s not that I wouldn’t like to.” Harry’s eyes widen. “Hold on just a sec.”

He walks down to the curb and Louis moves up the porch, not able to make out his murmured conversation on the phone although he is desperately curious to know what it is about.

Harry joins him a few minutes later on the porch, smile in full force. “I can stay for a beer or two.”

“Great, come on in.” He leads him into the kitchen, pulling two beers from the fridge and hands one over.

“So,” he takes a drink, smiling a little awkwardly, “obviously you can see I don’t have anyone in the house, just me. My job is probably the fault for that.” Louis raises his eye brows and nods his head a bit, not knowing what else to say, he taps his bottle cap on the counter. “What about you, got anyone at home?”

Harry runs a hand through his hair, a light blush staining his cheeks. “No, I’m the same. In fact I-” he stops, coughs lightly and scratches his nose, “I actually just made a few profiles on those dating websites.” He admits, sounding embarrassed.

“You did?” Louis laughs. “How’s that going for you?” He leans on the counter, pulling another drink from his beer.

Harry’s eyes track the motion and Louis’ stomach clenches. “Um- not very good actually.”

“Why’s that?”

Harry looks down and picks at the label on his bottle. “I’m not sure, I guess I just don’t have the right stuff written on my profile.” He glances back up at him. “Not what people want I guess.”

Louis snorts. “I find that hard to believe.” He blinks in surprise, wishing he could take that back. “I mean- what I meant was. Don’t think you can really screw up those things. Just gotta wait for the right one to find you.”

Harry nods silently, not breaking eye contact. Louis swallows thickly. "So what made you do that? The dating sites."

"I was sort of coerced into it. But I can't really regret doing it." Harry stares off into the distance, taking another long pull before his eyes find Louis again. "I'm not getting any younger, right?"

Louis tries to sound casual. "How old are you then?"

Harry pulls a face. "Thirty-five."

Louis rolls his eyes, "Oh go on with you. I'm thirty-seven. Don't complain."

Harry raises his eyebrows, "Well at least I've read there's one thing we don't need to worry about. Studies show that for men, sex in your thirties is just as good if not better than the twenties."

Louis grips his beer, pulse skipping erratically. It was probably meant as an offhanded quip about aging, but the silence that follows is deafening. Louis can't tear his eyes away from Harry, whose gaze is fixed just as steadily on him.

Harry blinks first. "So, you know- that's a good thing."

"Really good." Louis murmurs.

A few more beats pass before Harry holds up his beer, jiggling the bottle. "I'm out."

Louis finally pulls himself together. “Do you want another?”

“Yes.”

“Great. Me too.”

He tosses them in the recycling, clanking together loudly in the silence. He grabs two more and hands one to Harry, leaning one hip against the counter right next to him. He feels taller now that Louis is standing so close. Can remember how warm and firm Harry’s chest had been when he was leaning up against him in the elevator. Fuck. He needs to get his thoughts elsewhere.

“Oh um-“ Harry trails his fingers on Louis shirt over his collar bone. “You have a leaf here.” He holds it up, eyes large and dark and Louis feels like he could drown in them.

He leans in slightly. “Thank you.”

A buzzing noise interrupts the soft quiet atmosphere of the darkening kitchen, as the dusk settles in. Harry’s face breaks in apology. He pulls his phone out. “I should be going.”

“No, I totally understand. Can’t keep you here all night, right?” Louis chuckles but it's a little hoarse.

Harry shakes his head, looking far too serious, “No, I guess not.” he murmurs.

“So I’ll see you…?” Louis asks casually. “Wait, is there more to be done?” His forehead wrinkles in confusion, secretly hoping there is more that Harry has to do.

“Um yeah- I really should add some more mulch.” He answers, deep voice making Louis want to shiver. “I don’t think I put enough down.”

“Yes, definitely.” Louis nods, overly enthusiastic. “Don’t want the neighbors to think I’m going cheap on the landscaping.”

“Okay, so I’ll see you this upcoming Saturday?”

“Absolutely.” Louis follows Harry out of his house and stands on the porch, waving him off.

He watches the long line of his his body as he walks to his car and bends to get in. Louis turns around and heads back inside. As he climbs the stairs it occurs to him how much larger the house feels now that he's here by himself.

 

***

 

Louis gives Harry his cell number so they can start texting. It’s just that he had sent Louis a couple emails suggesting that maybe he should consider doing some foliage or flowers in the back corner of his yard and it was just so much easier to throw ideas back and forth via text instead of email. He gets so many other emails that the one’s Harry sends tend to get buried.

It’s not until Friday night that Louis cracks. He’s had four beers, it’s 11:30 pm and he decides to go online and try to find Harry’s profile. He’s trying to figure out what site he would’ve gone through. He said _websites_ , nothing specific, but he set it up under more than one so his odds are a little better.

He’s debating between match.com and eharmony. Do people even use eharmony anymore? That seems a bit older. He takes his chances and goes to match.com.

The first thing that comes up is a small box asking him if he is male or female and if he is seeking male or female. The next one is age range. He puts in 30-40. He fills in his zipcode. Houston is big enough as it is without having to look through profiles from all over the US.

He grunts in annoyance when it asks him to put in an email and create a password in order to look at them. Necessary evil.

He does as he’s asked and then it tells him that 1,082 profiles match his specifications. Jesus. He puts the filter so that fifty pictures show up on each page and then peruses through them as quickly as possible. Not all of them have a picture up, but he’s going to look through all twenty-two pages regardless so he’s hoping that Harry does have one.

The task is more time consuming than he thought it would be. But ten minutes later and halfway down page sixteen he sees him.

 

 

 

He’s divorced. He has kids.

Wow. Louis sits there, staring at the screen, picking at the skin on his bottom lip. _He has kids._ Harry’s words from the other night float through his mind.

_I’m not sure, I guess I just don’t have the right stuff written on my profile. Not what people want I guess._

Now he understands. And had he known what was actually in Harry’s profile he probably would have reacted differently. Or at least he would have said something brutally honest that he would’ve wished he’d kept to himself.

Not just one kid but _two kids_. So if Harry's thirty-five, they could be anywhere between the ages of seventeen and two. Louis can’t figure out what would be more awkward, older children or babies.

He’s supposed to be seeing Harry tomorrow and now he is completely off balance. He drags both hands through his hair, gripping tightly, leaning his elbows on his desk. His eyes are wide on the screen in front of him. A part of him knows he should’ve never looked at this. It’s Harry’s prerogative to tell people when and if he feels like it. But another part of him can’t believe he’d told everyone on the bloody fucking internet but not Louis who was kind of- well they were sort of.

Well- nothing. He sighs and closes his laptop. He really should read through more of the Grimes briefings before bed. He puts everything out of his head and brings the stack of papers with him up to his room.

 

***

 

“You have kids.”

Okay so that wasn’t the _first_ thing Louis was planning on saying to him.

Harry tenses, jaw setting just so, hands clenching on the shovel he’s pulling out of his vehicle. He’s wearing the torn jeans again with a white t-shirt, hair pulled half up.

“Yeah so.” He looks at him silently, long enough to make Louis start to feel uncomfortable. “How did you find out?”

“Well.” He squishes a beetle with his shoe on the pavement. “Funny thing really- I sort of went on match.com last night.”

Harry starts to pull a large tarp filled with mulch out of the back end of his vehicle. “You _sort of_ went on there.”

“Yeah. I was curious.”

“Ah. That’s right.” Harry has an unpleasant twist to his mouth. “I forgot you’re a very curious person.”

Louis grinds his teeth together. “If you’re pissed off would you just bloody yell at me. Stop being polite for once in your life.”

Harry pushes the shovel down into the pile of mulch, leans on the handle and furrows his brows. “Because that’s not the type of person I am. And yes, I do have two children who I love dearly. But I didn’t say anything to you because I would never bring them into a situation until I knew it might- well” he struggles, “not that this is- because we haven’t really-“

Louis walks over to stand in front of Harry, brushes a woodchip off of his shirt. “What are their names?”

Harry watches him for a few minutes before sighing, “Tenley and Brighton. Tenley is fifteen and she’s becoming a bit of a pain in my backside since she’s hit her teens. Brighton is eleven and although he’s normally easygoing as most boys are, he’s been a bit sullen lately that Ten is so much taller than him. He thinks he’s never going to grow anymore, no matter how many times I reassure him he’ll get there.”

A small smile tips his mouth as he finishes.

“And their mother?”

Harry’s face clouds over and he looks down. “Well, you saw on the site that I’m divorced. It was official two years ago. In fact that’s sort of why we met in the elevator.”

“The elevator.” Louis repeats dumbly.

“Yeah, the meeting I told you about, that was really important, it was to finalize full custody of the kids. When we divorced we had shared custody. But well-“ Harry’s lip curls bitterly, “she didn’t really keep up her end of the deal all that well. So I had to wait awhile- what felt like too long in fact- but then I was able to move forward with seeking full custody.”

“Oh.” Louis blinks in shock. And he had been such a flippant asshole on the elevator. Believing that he was there to meet with maintenance for a job to water flowers. He cringes and Harry huffs a laugh, probably remembering full well what Louis was.

“Yeah that morning was not the easiest for me. I was quite stressed out. And then you wanted to puke in my hat.”

“Um, yeah. Not my best morning either to be honest.” Louis admits cheekily. He stuffs his hands into his black skinny jeans.

“But wait,” Louis squints suspiciously, pulls a hand out to poke Harry in the chest. “You said you were a landscaper and let me hire you.”

Harry fights the grin curving his mouth but his dimples push through anyway. “I actually never said I was a plant guy. You kept assuming,” Harry raises an eyebrow, “which by the way you were a major asshole about. And then you hired me even though I knew nothing about plants.”

He leans forward and whispers into Louis' ear. “Which also means that it’s your fault that the birch is tilted. Because I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing.”

Louis gasps in outrage. “You said it was straight! I knew it was crooked but I was being _nice_ and here all along you knew it was tilted! You little shit.” He pounds his fists lightly into Harry’s chest.

Fingers encircle his has wrists, but they make no move to pull his hands off. “Hey, I am innocent here. You deserve every bit of your flawed landscaping because I have no idea what the hell bushes I planted. _You_ hired me,” Harry laughs, “you would think as a lawyer you would have done some proper research.”

When Louis doesn’t respond right away Harry quiets.

“So I was wondering.” Louis stares up at him, drawing a triangle on his shirt with his finger. “You were married to a woman.” He leaves it like that. He says it like a statement but he knows that Harry knows it’s a question.

“Yes, I was married to a woman.” Harry flattens Louis’ hands to his chest, holding them there. “I think I was always um-“ Harry stares down at his shoulder unable to make eye contact, “curious? I guess. But I’ve never been. With a man that is.”

Louis sucks in a breath. “Really?”

Harry pulls one of his hands off of Louis’, runs his thumb back and forth along the line of Louis’ collar bone. He squints as if he’s concentrating really hard on the action. “Is that a problem?” The question is uttered lightly, barely above a murmur. He flicks his eyes up to meet his.

Louis’ voice is thick when he answers. “Not at all.” He clears his throat. “Do you um- do you want to come in for a beer.”

“Louis, its 9:00 am.”

“Oh. Right.” He responds sheepishly. “we should probably get back to the mulch?” He nods up to the sky frowning. “Actually we really should probably do that. It looks like it’s going to rain soon.”

They work quietly together, Harry shoveling mulch from the tarp to various spots around the shrubs and Louis smoothing it out with a rake. It feels good to throw himself into physical labor like this, the silence between them comfortable, preferred even after the recent revelations. He tries to concentrate only on the task at hand but it's difficult. He keeps thinking about all of the circumstances that led up to them here, landscaping his house on a saturday when neither of them even _do this_ for a living. That thought evolves into why Harry lied in the first place. He slows his movements with the rake and secretly looks over at Harry under his fringe.

His white t-shirt shows off just how sweaty Harry has gotten, hair sticking to his shiny neck. He lays the shovel down gently and puts his hands at his lower back, arching it. He's working so hard. Louis' mind just can't comprehend that, especially considering this is a fake job. And he keeps coming back to the question of why Harry agreed to come check it out in the first place, what compelled him. His pulse jumps in his throat at the thought.

It only takes them about an hour to finish with the mulch Harry had brought with him. The last five minutes are spent hurrying from all over the yard to throw all the tools and tarp in the garage because it starts to rain. Gentle, sporadic rain drops quickly turning into sheets. It’s incredible how it can go from nothing to complete and utter downpour in seconds.

“Harry, grab the red rake. I think it’s still on the side of the house.” He shouts.

“Got it!”

Louis jogs up his porch steps and stands, surveying his yard in satisfaction. Harry follows a minute later and they both stand under the covered porch, clothing plastered wetly to their bodies. Louis’ eyes skitter away from staring too long at Harry’s nipples, shown clearly through the thin white shirt.

Harry does not seem to share the same compunction and allows his gaze to track openly across Louis' body. He barely suppresses a shiver at the heat he sees there.

“We should probably go in and take our clothes off.” Louis presses his lips together, hands steepled in front of them. “What I _meant_ to say was, we should dry off. Not good to stay in these. I have some extras for you if you need some.”

Harry pulls his hair tie out, shaking his head. “Yeah that sounds like a great idea.”

They step inside and Louis hurries to the closet to hand Harry two towels. “The bathroom is right through there, let me just get you some things.”

He walks into his laundry room- which is a disaster- picks up clothes from various piles and sniffs them to see if they’re clean or not. He’d like to say it looks like this because of all the time he’s putting into the Grimes case but in reality it would look like this even if he was jobless. He finds a shirt that’s a bit large on him and some athletic shorts. He pauses, wondering if he should be offering Harry some briefs. Is that weird? He spies a couple of new packs of Ralph Lauren’s he’d just picked up two weeks ago and pulls a new pair out. He’d at least give him the option. He rushes back out to the hallway to find Harry standing in his briefs, bent over as he rubs the towel over his hair.

Christ, Louis rubs a hand over his mouth as he eyes the way the wet fabric clings to his ass.

“Um- here I brought you some clothes- again the bathroom is right there-” He points to the left as Harry flips his head up and turns around. His words break off as his glance automatically slides down to his dick.

Harry is _hung_. He can feel his mouth start to form words but nothing comes out, his mind completely unable to cooperate. Louis feels the semi he’s suddenly got. It’s horribly uncomfortable in the tight wet jeans he has on.

“That’s not very fair.” Harry replies.

“I’m sorry?” Louis frowns in confusion, still slightly dazed. He flicks his eyes up.

“You’ve seen me in my briefs.” Harry’s voice comes out low and steady. “Fair is fair.”

Harry thinks he should take his clothes off? Fuck no. Not with the way he can feel himself chubbing up even further. His eyes skitter involuntarily back down and he can see that Harry is not unaffected by his gaze. Jesus. 

Alright he can do this. He can. Louis pulls his sopping wet shirt off, glad to be free of it. Then he goes to the button on his jeans, sighing in relief as he unzips and gives himself some room to breathe. Dragging the tight jeans down over his ass is a bit of a problem. His briefs want to keep coming down too so he ends up hopping on one foot as he tugs his jeans down while holding up the band of his underwear.

“Sexy.” Harry quirks a smile, eyes watching him.

Louis rolls his eyes, feels his cheeks burn a bit and knows it’s not his finest moment. He finally pulls them completely off and straightens. Which seems to shut Harry up as he stares intensely at Louis. He sucks in a breath when Harry steps forward and palms Louis dick. The heat of his hand feels like a brand on him.

He didn’t exactly think that Harry would be this forward, but he’s certainly not complaining.

“Would you like to follow me?” He asks imperiously, raising an eyebrow as he starts to climb the stairs.

He hears the thump of feat behind him and as he gets near the bedroom door Harry nears him, moving closer.

A hand trails down his back and just as it gets to the band of his briefs it lifts. Harry passes by him and falls back on the bed, completely naked. _Well then_. His knees are leaning out to either side, splaying his legs. Louis bites his bottom lip harshly as his eyes travel the length of the body displayed before him. He's so fucking gorgeous it makes Louis' mouth dry. Louis bends onto the bed breathing roughly, smoothing both hands along his thighs. Harry’s hips pop up a little bit in reaction, cock bobbing thick and heavy in between. He knows what Harry wants but he avoids it, continuing to caress his inner thighs, thumbs sweeping down by his hole on either side.

Harry groans, digging his heels into the bed. "Not gonna touch me? Fine." He nestles his palm over the head before gliding his hand down, shiny and slick. Harry strips his hand lazily up and down his cock, eyelashes dark on his cheeks and brows drawn together. The most wanton noises escape his mouth as Louis continues to lightly caress around his hole with his thumbs. It nearly takes Louis’ breathe away.

“I had no idea you’d be like this.” Louis murmurs, throat constricted with want.

Harry’s eyes slit open and he obscenely spreads his legs even further apart. “I’ve never been shy in bed. And I may not have ever been with a man, but you have no idea the set of dildos I have at home.”

“Fuck.” Louis circles his hole with his middle finger, skating closer and closer around the rim. He’d really like to see that at some point. Harry’s hole stretched prettily around a dildo. He nuzzles his fingertip right at the entrance and Harry groans, trying to bare down to push him in. Louis pulls his fingers away. He tsks.

“All in good time, love. Don’t rush.”

He slips a hand up Harry’s right thigh until it nestles into the crook behind his knee. He pushes it toward Harry’s chest lifting his ass a bit higher. With the other he slides it up and cups his balls. They’re firm and scrunched up tight. He massages them a bit, listening to his groans and watching Harry’s cockhead slip in and out the circle of his fingers. His own cock feels like granite sitting untouched in his briefs.

“Please.” Harry grunts. “Two fingers. Go straight to two.”

Louis nods silently, too turned on to speak. He pulls back off the bed to grab lube and a condom. Once he's kneeled back up, Louis slicks them and nudges the tips of his fingers in, working past his rim before sliding straight in without warning.

Harry gasps, making Louis smirk. “There we are.” He dips them in and out, crooking them around. It’s not long before he’s slipping a third one in.

“I’m ready.” Harry breathes, squeezing his cock at the base. Louis blinks. The fact that he's holding back his orgasm burns through him, lighting Louis' skin on fire. He doesn't want Harry finishing until he's inside of him.

He scrambles to push his briefs off and throws them on the floor. Rips the wrapper apart. “Jesus, it’s been such long time.” He grips himself, slight tremor in his hand as he slides the condom on.

“How long?” Harry asks hoarsely.

He guides his himself to Harry’s hole, pressing gently at the entrance, feeling it cling to his cockhead. He grinds his teeth, overwhelmed by the feeling. He pushes in the barest hint while Harry keens impatiently.

He hooks each hand in the crooks of Harry’s knees again and presses them up toward his chest before sliding smoothly in until his hips are pressing up to Harry’s ass.

“Eight months.” He hisses.

“Come here.” Harry tilts his head, curving a hand around the back of Louis’ neck, guiding him down to his lips. The kiss is light. He's buried balls deep in Harry and their first kiss is several light brushes of their lips, heavy breaths panting together.

“Now, fuck me.”

“You’re quite pushy aren’t you?” Louis huffs as he pulls almost all the way out and fucks back in. “Not gonna touch yourself?”

Harry shakes his head leaning up once again to capture his lips. “Was almost ready to blow before, now that you’re in me it’s not gonna take much.”

Louis slides his hands out from the crooks of his knees so that he can wrap them on either side of Harry's head. Dips down to press a long kiss to his lips. Harry makes a small noise and opens his mouth, allowing Louis to finally slip inside. He groans at the warm slick heat of his mouth. Harry's throat vibrates with a whine as Louis moves his tongue in rhythm with his hips jutting into him.

“You're really just gonna come on my dick?" Louis whispers the question. He pumps his cock in and out roughly. "The feel of it sliding in and out of you.” Louis breaths pick up as he pushes in and out, finally finding the right angle for Harry. “There it is.” He murmurs, picking up speed at the noises coming from Harry’s mouth.

“Been waiting forever for this haven't you?” Louis eyes cling to to Harry’s. Harry's eyes flutter shut for a moment as his his chest heaves. Louis feels Harry's hands slide down his back and squeeze his ass. "Then fuck me." His eyes burn into Louis'. He responds immediately. Jerks his hips more roughly, knows that Harry’s going to have bruises from Louis’ hipbones but can’t give a shit at the moment.

Harry presses their mouths roughly together and Louis moans as his tongue invades him. He pulls back, eyes widening, feeling it coming over him. “Gonna come, Harry?” he asks a bit frantically, knowing he’s almost there, that it was never going to take much. “Just fucking come, babe.” Harry nods distractedly, eyes fluttering shut as come pulses out, sliding between their stomachs. He stares at him as long as he can before he pushes in two more times, eyes slamming shut as he grunts through it, coming harder than he can remember in along time.

The only noise in the air is harsh panting and Louis lowers his full weight down for a few moments. Harry's come slips uncomfortably between them, before he gingerly pulls out and rolls onto his back.

Harry turns his head on the pillow, quiet, half-smile in place. "What they say about sex in your thirties is definitely true."

"That wasn't really a fact, was it? Here I thought you were just coming on to me." Louis pulls the condom off, tying it and tossing it in the garbage next to the bed. He grabs a shirt off his floor and wipes Harry's stomach before bundling it more, wiping himself off.

"It is true! Don't tell me you don't google stuff about your age too."

Louis sniffs, "I never do that."

He rolls back onto his side then, throwing a leg over Harry’s, head resting on his arm. There’s a faint blush across Harry’s cheek bones. “Um- I’m a bit embarrassed now about some of the stuff I said. You know- in the heat of it.”

"I have to admit I am very intrigued by this dildo collection of yours." He teases.

Harry's blush deepens.

Louis makes a noise of dismissal. “Talking is half the fun. I love it.”

Harry’s eyes follow his, smile increasing. “Thank god for that. Can’t wait to hear what comes out of you next time.”

A serious hush falls over both of them at that.

Louis brushes a finger delicately over his nipple, continuously until Harry sucks in a quiet breath. “So you’re saying you want there to be a next time?” He looks back up into his eyes.

A look of amused disbelief washes over Harry’s face. “Is that even a question?”

Louis slaps his stomach. “I _mean_ not just sex, you tosser.”

Harry's face clears of amusement, considering Louis for a few moments. “Well, that’s sort of more up to you. Isn’t it. I’m the one with two kids.”

Louis looks at him hesitantly, tracing his fingers across his ribs. “You could, you know, bring them over sometime if you wanted.” He sweeps his eyes down his chest, avoids eye contact. Not sure what he will think of the suggestion.

“I would love that.”

Louis smiles secretly, mumbling into Harry’s armpit. “I would like that too. I promise to try not to run in terror.”

 

***

 

Louis’ looks himself over critically in the mirror. He’s wearing a black Adidas shirt, his favorite pair of jeans and his lucky vans. He sifts his hands through his hair even though it makes no difference to it. It’s stuck in the style that his mates rib his as his “hot dad” hair. He frowns in thought, not sure if that’s a good or bad thing for meeting Harry’s kids. He runs a hand over his cheek and wonders if he should have shaved this morning. But it’s saturday and he normally doesn’t shave on saturdays because it’s one of the only fucking days he has that he isn’t required to.

He might be freaking out just a little bit. It’s just- he’s about to meet Harry's kids and he’s not sure what to say or how to act. It’s worse than a first date honestly.

The doorbell sounds and Louis freezes. He takes a few deep breaths trying to calm his nerves.

“Alright Tomlinson, let’s do this.”

He walks through his living room to the front door and opens it wide. “Hey Harry, kids come on in.”

His stiff smile loosens up a bit when he sees Harry wearing jean shorts, a bright floral shirt with his hair in a bun. Jesus, he doesn’t know how he can make the most ridiculous outfits look so fucking good.

The girl, Tenley, is in jean shorts as well, and a white Bruno Mars shirt. Her dark blonde hair is up in a messy bun, a bit of makeup around eyes that are the exact same green as Harry’s. The boy, Brighton, is about a foot shorter than her with dark brown hair and bright blue eyes. He’s wearing a WWE shirt with a wrestler on it, black skinny jeans and muddied converses.

All three of them have stepped right inside and now they’re all standing together awkwardly in silence. Wonderful. A stomach growls and Louis and Harry huff a laugh. Tenley pokes Brighton in the stomach and he slaps her hand. It seems to have broken the awkwardness a bit.

Louis claps and rubs his hands together. “Um- do you guys want to come in a bit further and we can figure out what to eat for dinner?”

“Sounds perfect.” Harry smiles. “Hey, Bright, don’t forget to take your shoes off." He looks at Tenley as well and slips out of his own flip flops. "Let’s all take them off.”

Louis shakes his head in amusement. “It’s honestly okay. You don’t need to do that.”

“Yes we do. We respect everyone’s space.” Harry eyes both his kids. Louis catches Tenley rolling her eyes as she bends down to pull hers off. He sticks his tongue in his cheek and decides not to step on any toes by pushing the issue further.

They head into the kitchen and Louis directs them to the piles of take-out menus he has spread out on his table. “So where do we want food from. I was thinking Domino’s?”

“I’m 100% in for that.” Tenley searches for the menu in the pile.

Harry frowns, eyebrows drawing together, “Now wait, I thought we would go to that place with the steamed salmon and quinoa.”

At that Tenley and Brighton’s eyes fly to Louis, widening meaningfully. Louis knows a cry for help when he sees one.

“Yeah but Harry, who can resist Dominos, yeah?”

A slight pout develops and Harry turns to Brighton, “You guys love that place though.”

Tenley sighs, “No dad. _You_ love that place. We eat there because we don’t have a choice. Normal dads get their kids food like Dominos. Louis is acting like a normal dad.” She shrugs a shoulder. “I mean if he was a dad.”

“Can we get the stuffed cheesy bread?” Brighton looks at Louis with the question and he’s at a loss as to what to say.

It’s not like they’re all dazzling smiles and hugging, but he was envisioning that resentment you always get in situations like these. He thought he’d be given the cold shoulder or have to win them over or _something_. This is throwing him off. He should have maybe expected this considering Harry’s demeanor. He doesn’t have an unwelcoming bone in his body and he doesn’t think Harry would tolerate it in his children either. But still. There’s no animosity and he was kind of expecting some. Breaking through barriers and all of that.

“Alright, what’s the deal.” Louis eyes them suspiciously. “Where’s the _you’re taking my mom’s place_ standoffishness or the _you’ll never be good enough for our dad_ glaring?”

As soon as the words are out of his mouth he wants to bite his tongue off. Louis has never been good at watching his tongue, but Jesus.

Three faces blink at him in surprise. He can see Harry visibly tense and he wants nothing more than to take it back. Silence blankets the room for several minutes. Just when Louis is awkwardly trying to figure out how to backtrack from that question, Ten opens her mouth.

“Well.” Tenley shrugs a shoulder again, staring determinedly down at the table, “I suppose it has to do with the fact that we don’t really _have_ a mother for you to take the place of. Or at least she’s never really around.”

A thin layer of anger rings in her voice and now she’s tracing her fingertip along the grain of the wood on the table. Silence stretches.

She glances back up, looking him directly in the eye. “And to be honest my dad is a loser when it comes to dating. I had to practically create his profiles on those dating sites myself. So like- I’m not gonna push away someone he miraculously manages to snag.”

A bark of laughter bursts from his mouth before he manages to clamp a hand over it in shock. Louis cringes inwardly at his terrible reaction. A small smile hovers on her lips and then Brighton giggles behind a hand on his own mouth.

Desperation shines from Harry’s eyes as he says “Okay I give in. Dominos it is!”

Louis cocks his head at him. “Steamed salmon and quinoa, Harry? Honestly. What are you, a health nut?

Ten looks at him in disbelief. “You're joking right? Don’t you know what store he owns?”

“Store?” Louis glances at her and then at Harry.

“He owns _Green and Natural._ The organic, non-gmo, natural health food store.” There’s a derisive tone to her voice. Clearly not a fan like her father.

“Oh really?” Louis exaggerates his shock, eyes burning into Harry’s. “So that’s what the infamous embroidery on your father’s green shirts is for.”

An innocent grin spreads across Harry’s entire face, “Well it can denote so many different things, one might not automatically think it was a natural food store.”

“One might not.” Louis clucks his tongue, pins him with his gaze. “And we _are_ going to order Dominos.”

He winks at each of the kids before his eyes return evilly to Harry’s. “Everything on the menu in fact.”

**Author's Note:**

> My original inspiration was [this post](http://jonahryan.tumblr.com/post/117050708072/aus-for-when-your-otp-are-both-assholes) of AU prompts on tumblr.
> 
> And then I was still kind of hung up on [this post](http://zarryaffection.tumblr.com/post/120343380901/harry-but-you-can-call-me-h-45-divorced-2) on my dash from [zarryaffection](http://zarryaffection.tumblr.com/). Thank you so much lovely for for allowing me to use direct inspiration from it :)
> 
> as always say hi on [tumblr](http://words-on-pages.tumblr.com/) if you wish!


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